


Attack of the Earworms

by carolej126



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 03:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15306861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: Written in 2003 for the Sentinel Angst List.Blair reveals a personal problem.





	Attack of the Earworms

"Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"

Busy in the kitchen with the last of the breakfast dishes, Jim Ellison froze at the frantic-sounding cry.

"STOP!"

"Sandburg?" Already moving without conscious thought, Jim increased his speed, zeroing in on his partner's voice. "Chief?"

"I can't take it anymore."

Coming to a quick stop outside the bathroom, Jim cautiously peered around the partially open door. Blair Sandburg stood in front of the still-slightly-foggy mirror, his back to the door. Dressed in blue jeans, red henley shirt, and matching red and black flannel shirt, his hands were fisted tightly in his hair, and his mouth was open in a silent scream. "Blair?"

"Aaaah!" Blair jumped in surprise, swinging around. "Jim! Man, you scared me."

"I scared *you*? Sandburg, with the racket you were making, I half-expected to find you being murdered in here."

"Real funny, Jim," Blair answered, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "You heard me, huh?"

Jim reached out to lightly rap Blair's head. "Of course, I heard you. I'm a Sentinel, remember?" Grinning at Blair's snort of amusement, he asked, "So, what were you whining about?"

Blair assumed an indignant look. "Whining? I wasn't whining."

"I can't take it anymore," Jim whined, in a credible imitation of Blair's voice.

"Okay, okay." Blair held up his hand. "I was whining." He took a deep breath. "But you would have been, too."

"Moi, whining?" Jim pointed to his own chest.

"Yes, you."

"Sandburg, what..." Jim's voice trailed off, and he took a look around their current location. "How 'bout we move this out of the bathroom?" Crooking one finger, he motioned for Blair to follow him into the living room. He sat down on the couch, waiting until Blair was seated next to him before ordering, "Okay, spill it."

"Have you ever heard of earworms?"

Jim made a face. "That's disgusting."

"No, no, it doesn't mean what you think," Blair quickly reassured.

"I hope not, Sandburg, because I've got a very vivid picture running through my mind right now."

"Oh, yeah, like those things in the Star Trek movie that were put in people's ears. Ewww." Blair shivered. "Nothing like that."

"So, what does it mean?"

"Well, there was a guy who coined the expression 'earworms', meaning songs that get stuck in your head. You know, a song that you keep singing over and over, either out loud, or just in your head."

"Is that anything like hearing voices?" Jim asked with a smirk. "Think I should call some of those guys in the white coats?"

"Ha, ha," Blair answered, rolling his eyes.

"Let me get this straight. You've got, uh, earworms."

"Well, yeah. There's this song that keeps repeating, over and over, in my mind."

"Why don't you just stop thinking about it?"

Blair shook his head. "It's not that easy. A friend of mine once did a paper on the phenomenon. He found that virtually everyone experiences them at one time or another."

"Not me."

"That's never happened to you?" Blair looked incredulous.

"Nope," Jim answered smugly.

"I wonder why? Hey, maybe it has something to do with your enhanced senses. I could come up with some te-"

"No tests," Jim broke in quickly.

"But, Jim."

"Yep, there's that whine again," Jim laughed. When Blair responded with a dramatic pout, the detective shook his head. "No tests."

Blair sighed. "Okay."

"You never did tell me what song was stuck in your head."

Momentarily dropping his gaze down to the floor, Blair muttered something under his breath.

"What was that?" Jim cupped an ear with his hand. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Yes, you did," Blair huffed. "You're a Sentinel, remember?"

Jim gave Blair a stern look. "Sandburg."

Blair cleared his throat, a slight blush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, and began to sing, "It's a small world after all. It's a-"

"That song from a Disney ride?" Jim cut in, wrinkling his nose. "Why on earth would you be thinking about that song?"

"Because-" Blair jumped to his feet. "Here, I'll show you." He headed for his room, returning with a magazine clutched in his hand.

"You're singing that song because of a magazine?"

Without answering, Blair thumbed through the pages. Stopping mid-way through the book, he shoved it under Jim's nose. "Because of *that*."

Moving his head back to protect his eyesight, Jim took the magazine from Blair's hand. After rapidly scanning it, he looked back up at Blair. "I don't see the song."

"The song isn't in there."

"Then, why-"

"Look at the words," Blair interrupted.

Jim returned his gaze to the article. This time he saw it. 'Small', 'world', and 'after', were all words that appeared within the first paragraph.

"See it now?" Blair shook his head. "Man, all I did was start to read that article, and I had that song running through my head, over and over and over again."

"I wouldn't want that song running through my mind either," Jim admitted.

"Well, it's not like I picked the song. According to that study I was telling you about, most people tend to hear songs that they wouldn't normally be caught dead singing otherwise."

"So, think about a different song."

"I can't! It's been two days now. I've been singing that song in my car, in my room, in my office, in the bathroom ... everywhere! If you hadn't been away at that conference, you would have heard me doing it. The only time I don't sing it, is when I'm sleeping."

"Did that friend of yours mention how to get rid of earworms?"

Blair nodded. "There's supposed to be a lot of different cures."

Jim arched an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Some people finished the song, you know, sang it through to the end, and it went away."

"Did you try that?"

"Yes."

"I take it that didn't work?"

"Does it look like it worked?" Blair snapped, running his fingers through his hair. He took a deep breath before adding, "Sorry. This thing's really got me going."

"No problem. What are some other cures?"

Blair thought for a moment. "Trying to focus on other things, chewing on a cinnamon stick..."

"Ah. That explains the cinnamon scent in the loft when I got back last night."

"Didn't work," Blair said flatly.

"What else?"

"Somebody actually said that singing the lyrics to Gilligan's Island helped."

"Gilligan's Island?"

"Yeah. You know, the show about the castaways on the desert island. It was originally on television back in the mid-sixties, but it's been in reruns for years. 'Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip'," Blair began. "'That started from this tropic port aboard this tiny ship. The mate was a mighty sailing man, the skipper brave and sure. Five passengers set sail that day for a three hour tour'."

"'A three hour tour'," Jim echoed, to Blair's obvious surprise. "Okay, I admit it. I've seen the show, too."

A smile teased at Blair's lips as he continued. "'The weather started getting rough; the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew, The Minnow would be lost. The Minnow would be lost. The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert isle, with Gilligan, the Skipper too, the millionaire and his wife, the movie star, the professor and Mary Ann, here on Gilligan's Isle'." Finishing the song with a dramatic flourish, he laughed, his good humor restored.

"Well, did it work?"

Blair snorted. "I doubt it. Hey, did you know that the theme song was different in season one? It had 'and the rest' instead of 'the professor and Mary Ann'."

"No, I didn't know that." Glancing at his watch, Jim said, "As much as I enjoyed this little song-fest, Sandburg, I need to head for the station."

"Yeah, I'd better get going, too," Blair agreed, after a check of the time. "I've got office hours this morning."

"Will you be available to help me this afternoon?"

"Paperwork stacking up again, Jim?"

Jim chuckled. "You caught me, Chief."

Blair laughed again. "I should be available after two o'clock. Is that soon enough?"

"Sounds good." Jim got to his feet. "Oh, Chief," he started, "about this earworm thing. You may just have to wait until it goes away on its own."

"Yeah, I know. I just hope it goes away soon."

Nodding his agreement, Jim headed for the door. Keys in hand, he paused, waiting for his roommate. "Ready?"

"Just a sec." Quickly retrieving his backpack from his bedroom, Blair grabbed his keys from the basket near the door, and gave Jim a nod. "Ready."

As the two men walked down the hallway toward the elevator, Blair started to sing softly, "It's a small world..."

"...after all," Jim helpfully supplied, able to not only hear the words, but determine to what extent his friend was off-key.

"AAAUUUGGGHHH!"

"Sorry," Jim laughed, not sounding repentant in the least.

"You know, Jim," Blair said as they entered the elevator. "I just remembered one more cure."

Jim looked interested. "What was it?"

"Passing the earworm on to someone else."

"Don't even think about it," Jim warned, his eyes wide with horror. "I am *not* going to start singing that song."

"Well, it wouldn't have to be *that* song. It could be-"

"No! I am not going to start singing *any* songs."

Blair snickered. "If you say so."

*****

Three hours later...

As a sudden silence filled the Major Crime bullpen, Jim looked up from his desk to find six sets of eyes staring at him. "What?"

"Uh, Jim, was that the theme from Gilligan's Island you were singing?" Simon Banks asked.

 

~end~


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